The Price of Magic
by XerxesRises
Summary: Twist on Hook losing his hand, the second time around. Very slight violence, so rating M. Non-beta'd.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but my opinions.

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><p><strong>The Price of Magic<strong>

Emma was staring at him from the other side of the cell, a frown bringing her brows together as she contemplated him. He couldn't bear to look up into her face, didn't want to see the disappointment or hurt that might be there. He'd vowed to himself long ago that he would never be one of the people that disappointed her and yet, here he was. The self-loathing surging through his body was almost enough to drive him insane.

Carefully avoiding her gaze, he stared down at his "cursed" left hand, hate roiling in his stomach at Rumpelstiltskin, but even more than that, at himself for being so ridiculously naive to think that he was a better man and could somehow avoid his baser instincts.

He heard Emma shuffle closer to him and he looked up abruptly.

"_Don't_." He ordered her, his voice harsh.

She stared at him, her brows lifting in surprise at his tone. She searched his face for a few tense moments then set her jaw in that determined line that meant she'd made up her mind and he wouldn't be able to change it.

"You won't hurt me." She stated it as if it was fact, when Killian knew it was about as far from the truth as one could get. Fury flared through his body and he couldn't help the sadistic grin that spread across his face at her confidence.

"You know that's not true, _darling_." He purred, his eyes landing on the purplish bruise that decorated her jaw. He hadn't meant it, she'd been trying to stop him, and his hand, his damned hand had struck her. He couldn't stop staring at the bruise, the memory of how it had felt for his fist to connect with her face making his hand twitch on his thigh.

She watched him patiently, seeing something in his face that reassured her because she took another slow step towards him.

"Emma." He warned her, his body tensing as she closed the gap between them. She hesitated for a moment before crouching down before him. She looked up, her face open and unguarded as she smiled softly.

"It was an accident, Killian. I know that." Slowly, as if she was worried about startling him, she placed her hands on his thighs. There was a soft moment of calm where only his harsh breathing could be heard. Then his hand lurched to her wrist, moving so quickly she didn't have time to react. He held her small, fragile hand in his, his fingers squeezing around her so hard that he could feel the bones of her hand rubbing together.

He pulled her towards him, marveling that she was able to keep her other hand still along his thigh as he twisted and yanked at her other arm. When she was close enough that he could see the pupils of her eyes dilate in reaction to his proximity, he smiled slow and dangerous. Then, his voice deep and dark murmured,

"You are so naive, Swan. _All_ magic has a price. Maybe my price is...killing you."

He had to give her credit; not an ounce of fear flitted across her face as he held her in place between his thighs, glowering down at her. He could break her wrist if he twisted hard enough, but the thought made him nauseous even as his cursed hand closed harder around her.

"You won't hurt me." She whispered it with such conviction, such faith that he _almost_ believed her. But he could feel the rage burning through him, so he knew she was wrong. He wanted her to scream at him, hit him, do anything to push him away, to save him from hurting her. She'd pulled away from him in much more innocent situations in the past, so why wasn't she doing it now?

He could feel her blood rushing in her veins as her pulse raced underneath his fingertips, could almost hear her bones creaking as he pressed harder and harder. If he twisted and pressed just a little bit more, he would feel her delicate bones as they broke under his palm.

A beat passed as she searched his eyes again, her breath harsh against his lips.

"You won't hurt me." She repeated and then her mouth was on his, her tongue softly sliding along his bottom lip, seeking permission to kiss him fully.

He resisted at first, shaking his head against her in denial of her faith in him, his right hand gripping her shoulder and trying to push her away from him even as his left hand held her in place.

"Stop, Emma." He was able to ground out against her mouth. His hormones were raging at him, the change in focus from anger and fear to passion making him dizzy. His desire for her was never far from the surface and passion didn't discriminate when it came to anger or lust, one smoothly transitioning into the other at a moment's notice.

She sighed against him, moving quickly to straddle him. She pulled his arms around her, settling against him and then whispering against his mouth, "You won't hurt me."

It didn't take him long to respond to her, opening his mouth to allow the silky heat of her tongue to consume him. She was so bloody warm, her body pressed along his intimately. He loved the feel of her under both of his palms and he smoothed them along her back in soothing arcs. It reminded him of rubbing his hand along her back as she shivered in her parent's loft, trying to warm her, and being so damn thankful that she was alive.

The memory made him squeeze his eyes shut tight, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. His kisses became more desperate, wanting to erase the terror of that day from his thoughts with the heat of her mouth. He'd been desperate to get to her, trying to tear down that massive ice wall with his ineffectual hook. But she was here now, in his arms, kissing him back as passionately as he was kissing her. The thought that she wasn't afraid of him, might even possibly love him in return made his heart race and his stomach clench with hope.

That's when something strange happened; it was as if he could suddenly feel his racing heart beating in in the very pores of his skin, throbbing and crackling as the blood pumped through his body.

"Killian?" Emma pulled back to look at him when she felt him tense beneath her, her eyes wide in question and concern. He raised his hand behind her back, staring as a white light pulsed through it, warmth suddenly flowing through him and replacing his fury.

He brought his hand to Emma, showing her the white glow that was pulsing in parallel to his heartbeat. She stared down at it, then brought her own hands up to wrap around his. She held his hand in the space between their bodies, closing her eyes for a few moments and then opening them up to stare at him in awe.

"What?"

"It's magic. My magic, I think. I don't really understand it, but when I touch your hand it feels like...me. I don't know how else to explain it."

"You're_ in_ me?" He asked, quirking his brow and smirking at her. She rolled her eyes, then nodded softly.

"It's like my magic is trying to heal you. I think." She bit her lip then smiled shyly up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Is it, possible, do you think?" He tried to keep the hope from his voice, but failed miserably.

"I don't know. We could ask Gold."

"No! I'll not go near the Crocodile again unless it's to kill him! He did this to me!" The anger, ever present, boiled to the surface again quickly. Emma shushed him, cupping his jaw in her palms before pressing her forehead against his.

"Okay, okay. We won't ask him." She kissed him again, soothing him with gentle, chaste kisses at first, then groaning softly as they quickly evolved into more. As she kissed him, he could feel his heartbeat surge again and his hand tingled delightfully with each stroke of her tongue along his.

He wanted to feel more of her. Sliding his hands back around her, he found the edge of her shirt and was deftly under it in seconds. The first touch of his hands along her soft skin, one glowing with magic, brought a gasp from both of them. Emma pulled away enough to rest her forehead against his, panting softly as his hands slid slowly up her back, all the way to her shoulders where he curled his fingers up and over them, pulling her closer to him.

"God." She whispered, her eyes slowly closing in bliss at the feel of him, chaste though it was. He leaned forward, dropping his head to her shoulder, where his left-hand pulsed with white light through her shirt. He had imagined holding her for so long now, he couldn't help the stutter of his breath or the tears that built in his eyes.

"Why?" She breathed out as she held him to her. "Why did you go to him in the first place?"

He pressed his face into her neck, trembling with his emotions. How could he explain it to her, help her to understand?

"I wanted to be able to hold you as a whole man. I wanted to touch you, Emma." Sliding his hands back down around her, he wrapped her up in a tight hug. She didn't say anything for a moment and then pushed against him, so she could see his face. Her hands came up again to cup his face, and the expression in her eyes was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"I don't care if you have one hand or two, Killian. I _never_ have and I _never_ will. Do you think so little of me?"

"No! I just...I wanted to be the man you deserve. And you deserve a man that can hold you, completely." She smiled so sadly at him then that he almost couldn't bear it. She sighed as she traced her thumb along the scar on his cheek then leaned forward to press a kiss there.

"It's incredibly sweet that you wanted to give me this, but it's not what I needed from you. I just needed...you. It's not your hand that makes you who you are, but your heart." Then she pressed her warm palm over his chest, splaying her fingers there. He could feel her magic, swirling up from her palm and straight into his heart. All he could do was stare up at her, completely and utterly in love with her.

"Get rid of it." He blurted out, the words surprising them both.

"What?" A confused frown crossed her face.

"My hand. Use your magic and get rid of it." She shook her head as the words left his mouth. Horrified understanding widened her eyes.

"I can't do that. I could hurt you."

"You couldn't hurt me worse than the pain I would feel if I hurt you again." He reached out to trace the purple blotch along her jaw, his face a fierce grimace at the thought, anguished tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Or Henry. Or anyone else. Please, Emma. I trust you."

"_I _don't trust me!" She jumped out of his embrace, backing up off of his lap to pace in front of him. "You're insane if you think I can do this and not royally screw it up." She finally uttered as she stopped in front of him.

He looked up at her, lips swollen from his kisses, hair disheveled around her shoulders, eyes wild with panic. Grabbing her hands in both of his, he pulled her forward to stand between his knees. Leaning forward, he pressed his face against her flat stomach and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"_Please_, Emma." His voice broke on her name, sounding completely wrecked even to his own ears.

She brought her hands up to rest on his head, weaving her fingers through his hair. They stayed that way for several long moments. Hook took the opportunity to try to pull himself together, pushing away the dark and angry thoughts that were always simmering just under the surface of his mind now. The idea of revenge, one that he had embraced for centuries, was coming back again and again, driving every other thought away. At least now, Emma's magic was coursing through his veins and helping to stave off the worst of it.

He breathed deeply, savoring her scent as he focused on the warmth of her body under his palms.

"Please." He whispered one more time before he felt her fingers tense along his scalp. Taking a deep breath, she crouched down between his knees, tears on her cheeks.

"It might hurt." She whispered and he could hear the fear in her voice.

"It's okay, love. I survived it once before." He wasn't relishing feeling such pain again, but there was no way around it now. She nodded once then pulled his hand to her own. They both stared down it, Emma in trepidation, Hook in anger and not a small amount of fear.

"I'm sorry if I mess this up."

"You won't." She looked into his face, squeezing his hand between her two. As he watched, she bowed her head and pressed a kiss into his palm. He felt the brush of her tongue, his stomach dropping at the sensation.

"Emma." He curled his fingers inward as if he was trapping her kiss in his palm. She kept her head bowed, whispering up to him to close his eyes. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and almost instantly felt the loss. The warmth that had pulsed up his arm with Emma's magic was gone, but so was the anger that he'd been battling for days.

He couldn't help the sob that tore from his throat. He didn't want to look down and see that it was gone, to see that he was again incomplete.

"Don't." Emma whispered to him. He felt her climb back into his lap, wrapping her arms around him, rocking him against her. "I don't care, Killian. It doesn't matter to me." She kept whispering into his ear, over and over again as she held him.

Slowly, as she soothed him with her words, her embrace, her soft kisses, the turmoil and hate that had built up in him began to fade away to a distant memory. The agony of the past few days, the hardness of his thoughts calmed. He wrapped his arms around her, awed that there was no pain in his arm this time around, as he pressed his face into the side of her neck.

"Thank you." He was finally able to whisper in relief. She hugged him tightly to her, pressing a kiss into the side of his head.

Long moments passed as they held each other. He jumped when Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket. She chuckled against him, sliding her hand between them to extricate it. Looking down at the screen, he could see that her father's face smiling up at him. Sighing, she swiped her thumb across the screen and answered.

"Hey, dad. Yeah, I'm at the station. No. No, I don't think he'll be a problem any longer." She smiled in apology at him. "Yeah, I'll be home soon. I need to take him home." She listened for a few more minutes, then said goodbye.

"Is he...is he angry at me?" He couldn't believe how much it truly mattered to him that he hadn't burned any bridges with Emma's parents, especially her father.

"No. He understands. Or he will, when I explain it. It'll be okay." She smiled and then standing, she held her hand out to him. He grabbed it and she pulled him to his feet. Once standing, she smoothed the lapels of his coat down, sliding her hands around his waist, and then looked up into his eyes.

"I have your hook over there." She jerked her head back towards the coat rack where a worn leather jacket was hanging. There was a glint of light on the curve of his hook and he sighed in resignation before leaning down to kiss her again. He hoped she could feel his gratefulness in the kiss.

As they made their way towards Granny's, he explained what had happened after they had separated at the end of their date. To her credit, she didn't even bat at an eye at his confessions, making him love her all the more. When she kissed him outside the doorway to his room, she whispered softly to him again, "I don't care. I never have."

And suddenly, he didn't care very much either.


End file.
